Kiss It Better
by shotofvanilla
Summary: A night out goes horribly, horribly wrong. Inspired by a song of the same name. Rated for Character Death. Klaine. Previously on Tumblr.


**So I tried my hand at writing angst for once. Again guys: Character Death. Watch out.**

**I'm sorry I haven't been writing and posting much to here. A lot of what I've been writing lately just doesn't feel long enough or anything to be posted here, so I post a lot of "Tumblr Exclusives" on my Tumblr, if you wanted to check that out. There's a bunch there. I uploaded this because I felt bad about not really writing here.**

**This was inspired by the song "Kiss It Better" by He is We. I neither own Glee nor that band.**

He blinks.

_There's the crack of a gun, a deafening noise that makes Blaine wince and want to cover his ears. But it's the sound that follows after that chills his insides: a heartbreaking cry, coming from someone in front of him. Someone who falls to the ground in pain after the clatter of the gun hitting the concrete. _

_ Kurt_

_ Kurt, who managed to break free of his protective hold to push him out of the way. _

_ Blaine collapses to his knees and slowly pulls Kurt into his lap, holding him tenderly. He gasps at the blood covering Kurt's shoulder and a shudder of sobs escapes him. He desperately tries to press the wound below Kurt's collarbone and fumble for his phone at the same time. _

_ "Kurt- Kurt-oh my god," he whispers brokenly, his mind trying to catch up. It's a blur at this point: the dinner out, the walk in the park, the run-in with a drunken schoolmate of Blaine's, and _god why was there a gun?

_Despite Blaine's efforts, there's too much blood. It's everywhere: on Blaine's hands, his clothes, the ground, the air feels sickly heavy with the stench of it. Kurt coughs weakly, a hand coming up to encircle Blaine's wrist._

_ Blaine cradles his head, tears rolling down his cheeks and dripping off his chin. Kurt tries to draw in a breath to speak; the sound of the air painfully entering his lungs makes Blaine try to quiet him_

_ "Please, Kurt, you- you have to save your strength okay? Please, Kurt, stay with me, Kurt, please-"_

_ "Kiss it better?" is all Kurt murmurs softly. Loud sobs rip from Blaine as he nods, bending down to press his lips to Kurt's. _

_ "I'm so sorry, Kurt, I'm so sorry, god, Kurt, please-" Blaine mutters against his lips, his body trembling. _

_ "It's not your fault, love" Kurt gasps, "You didn't know," he says faintly. "Kiss it better, Blaine?" _

_ Blaine's fingers curl into Kurt's hair as he kneels on the concrete, holding his softly. Their lips brush one last time. _

_ There's a glint in the corner of Blaine's eye when he glances up. _

_ After laying Kurt carefully down, he staggers over, scooping up the simple black gun dropped thoughtlessly from their attackers. Blaine holds it for a moment, the weight of it uncomfortably awkward in his hand. And then he runs. _

_ Their attackers had only stumbled so far, their minds far gone by this point. Blaine fires two shots wildly in their direction, the kick-back of the gun causing him to falter in his steps once. One bullet flies off course and hits a tree. The other strikes in the chest and the man falls. _

_ Two cops catch him mid-stride, and for the second time that night the gun hits the ground haphazardly. They speak commandingly to him, but he screams brokenly, his tears drying in the cold night air. There are words he can't understand; they're telling him "_they know, but would he please calm down, sir_?" But he can't calm down, not with Kurt gone, ripped away from him not an hour ago yet. His hands clutch at their shoulders and empty air._

_ He blinks. _

His eyes survey the simple room he's been placed in. It's a psychiatric ward, he knows that much. There's nearly no color in it, aside from the dark blue pills on the nightstand beside him. They continuously tell him that _"No, he isn't crazy, but they're here to help."_

He draws the sheets around his head, trying to block out the memories of that night. The abrupt bang of a gun, Kurt's whimpers of pain, his own sobs.

_"Kiss it better?"_

_ "It's not your fault, love."_

_ "You didn't know."_

He shakes in the standard, white mattress, his cries muffled by the pillow he buries his head into. It's not better. It'll never _be_ better. He still doesn't have Kurt in his arms; a bullet to the back of a man can't bring back what it took away. His tremors grow as the world shatters around him.

He blinks.

_There's a man next to him. He looks familiar; a fair complexion, coffee-colored hair. But it's his eyes that Blaine recognizes the most, a clear blue-grey in the white light that seems to have no source. _

_ Blaine's hand reaches for his hesitantly, their fingers twining together slowly. "Stay with me?" he asks._

_ The man only squeezes his hand softly and smiles fondly, almost teasingly, giving an almost imperceptible nod. _

_ "Until I fall asleep?"_

_ There's no nod this time, but something better. A kiss. _

**Tumblr: mikechangappreciationlife**

**Kisses for Valentine's Day! (in case I don't write and post here before then)**


End file.
